Evil's Whisper

By Jordan Elizabeth

The Daughter of Darkness will destroy the world.
The Daughter of Light will save it.
Only one can rule it.

The desert winds bring the voices of the Dead to those who can hear.

Sabiya is not one of those people.

Though she has lived in Juniper City since she was born, the desert outside is foreign to her. Her life in Juniper City is a contrast between both the brutality and the wealth of her family. A life where women are worth little and easily disposed.

A life Sabiya is desperate to escape.

The desert beckons her, but she is not prepared for the sheer expanse of nothingness. Nor is she expecting the robbers who capture her when she has barely begun her journey. She is rescued, with the help of another captive’s brother.

Sabiya is returned to Juniper City with only the memory of her savior, the exotic Jadaidi warrior, Uthias. A man with another, secret name and a dark purpose. But an ancient past is about to catch up with the present, and old wars are once again igniting, where no one is safe.

And the life of one young girl is important only to her. And perhaps one other.

The Daughter of Darkness will bring salvation or ruin. But the warrior Uthias is destined to destroy her before the world finds out which it will be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellysian Press
• Release date: Dec 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781941637777

Book preview

Table of Contents

Other Works

Cast of Characters

Map – Land of the Kadians

Dedication

Prologue

First Chapter – Sabiya Speaks . . . 

Second Chapter – Sabiya Speaks . . . 

Third Chapter – Uthias Speaks . . . 

Fourth Chapter – Uthias Speaks . . . 

Fifth Chapter – Sabiya Speaks . . . 

Sixth Chapter – Uthias Speaks . . . 

Seventh Chapter – Sefina Speaks . . . 

Eighth Chapter – Water Remembers . . . 

Ninth Chapter – The Daughter of Darkness Speaks . . . 

Tenth Chapter – Uthias Speaks . . . 

Eleventh Chapter – Leonorra Speaks . . . 

Twelfth Chapter – Sabiya Speaks . . . 

Thirteenth Chapter – Siafia Speaks . . . 

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also from Ellysian Press

About Ellysian Press

EVIL’S WHISPER

Evil Saga, Book 1

Jordan Elizabeth

Evil’s Whisper

Jordan Elizabeth

www.ellysianpress.com

© Copyright Jordan Elizabeth. All rights reserved.

Print ISBN: 978-1-941637-76-0

First Edition, 2020

Editor: Maer Wilson, David A. Gray

Cover Art: M Joseph Murphy

Ebooks/Books are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away, as this is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Other Works

By Jordan Elizabeth

From Ellysian Press

Inheritance of Time

Time to Live, Book 1

Time to Die, Book 2

Cast of Characters

Those from Sia

Ainney – Princess of Sia, sister to King Wrence.

Ane – Daughter of Lord Liaam and Lady Mari

Cidorpheis – Known as the Majino. He hunts Amalitans who stray into the kingdom of Sia.

Honna – Queen of Sia, executed for not bearing children.

Ivlynne – Mother of King Wrence, known as Past-Queen of Sia.

Jeorge – Lord of Havor, son of Lord Wareham

Kircus – One of Lord Lionn’s guards, helps Uthias while in Sia.

Leonorra – Sister of Lord Joerge of Havor. Called Lea.

Liaam – Lord of Blimington

Lionn – Corrupted nobleman in Sia, Lord of Lieidre.

Little Mari – Daughter of Lady Mari and stepdaughter of Lord Liaam.

Mari – Lady of Blimington, late wife of Liaam

Mariona – Sefina’s friend. Mariona is a Sian who was exiled from Juniper City. She and her father live in the desert.

Monnie – Pawn of Siafia. Seducer of Lord Liaam. Known as Lady Monnieonette.

Shahayne – Nephew to King Wrence, son of Princess Ainney. Known as the Princess’ Rat.

Sia – Daughter of Water, founder of the country of Sia. She is half human and half Kadian.

Siafia – Daughter of Sia. Renowned killer. Known as Siafia the Great.

Stevor – Prince of Sia, King Wrence’s deceased brother.

Tommas – Son of Lord Liaam and Lady Mari, heir to Blimington.

Tonino – Son of Cisca, grandson of Aresita.

Wrence – King of Sia

Those from Juniper City

Anie Latinium – Sabiya’s stepmother, one of her father’s wives.

Aroh Latinium – Sabiya’s older brother.

Calpurnia Latinium – Sabiya’s younger sister.

Daveide Latinium – Sabiya’s father, a nobleman in Juniper City.

Ilyn Latinium- Sabiya’s stepmother, one of her father’s wives.

Kaitly Latinium – Sabiya’s youngest sister.

Sabiya Latinium – Servant of the Seeir. Noble woman living in Juniper City. She is a citizen of Sia.

Shabana – Healer living in Juniper City, sister of the Seeir.

The Seeir – Fortune teller for Juniper City. She is a prisoner in the palace.

Zorraneille – Servant of the Seeir. Noble woman living in Juniper City.

Those from Amalita

Acacia – Amalitan woman living as a healer in Sia.

Amalita – Daughter of Water, founder of the country of Amalita. She is half human and half Kadian.

Jaylia – Daughter of Acacia

Those from the Jadaidi Village

Anatia – Uthias’ cousin. Her father was Sian, and her mother is Amalitan. She lives in the Jadaidi Village.

Anjuan Senpal – Uthias’ youngest brother.

Aresita – Healer from Amalita, refugee to the Jadaidi Village.

Cisca – Daughter of Aresita.

Dalena – Uthias’ aunt. She lives in the Jadaidi Village.

Harick Senpal – Warrior from the Jadaidi Village.

Harlowcus Senpal – Uthias’ father, once an esteemed warrior in the Jadaidi Village.

Jostine Senpal – Uthias’ youngest sister.

Lara – Sabiya’s friend in the Jadaidi Village.

Liita – Uthias’ grandmother.

Lorissa Senpal – Uthias’ mother, a healer in the Jadaidi Village.

Sefina Senpal – Uthias’ younger sister. She aspires to be a warrior for the Jadaidi Village.

Uthias Senpal – Warrior from the Jadaidi Village. Calls himself Cusco while in Sia.

Those from the Past

Dyla – Mother of Water

Ucenoia – Daughter of Water, founder of the country of Sia. She is half human and half Kadian.

Water – The Last Kadian. Water lives in the mountains of Amalita. She is half human and half Kadian.

Map – Land of the Kadians

Dedication

For Amma

Prologue

I am Dyla. I am gone.

I understand now that I am forgotten. Once, the three kingdoms knew me well, prayed to me, even adored me. But a millennium passed, and no one came to the desert to worship me. I had never helped a single soul who asked for a gift or advice. I watched, I listened, but my power was and is elsewhere. I am lost. I float over the sand, and I thank my daughter for trying to preserve my name as a goddess. She did her best, poor thing, but it isn’t prayers or her love that I need.

I’ll be back in the world someday.

I’ll have what I want.

Once, we were Kadian. We lived in the forest near the mountains, and we were the greatest race upon the island. The elements obeyed us. In drought, we could bring rain. In winter, we could bring sun.

I had my mate, and we had our baby; we were happy.

The Kadians wanted to vanquish those who preyed upon us. It was ridiculous, that wish. There is always something stronger and something weaker. If the Kadians had all stayed in the village, they would have been safe, but they wanted to move past our borders, into lands already owned by others.

Our powers were meant to keep us alive, to keep our crops plentiful. The Kadians turned that power into wickedness to destroy our enemies.

Except they weren’t enemies. Like us, they wanted to survive.

Only I refused to participate in the ritual that would have destroyed all but us.

Such evil thoughts to destroy others will only turn against the one wielding them. The powers turned on my people and destroyed them instead. My mate crumbled into ash as I watched.

Our daughter would not meet such a fate. I had run into the ocean with her, towing the babe in a fishing boat. Such destructive power touched the land but did not reach into the water. When the Kadian were no more, save for us two, anger got the best of me. I screamed at the floating magic and the power solidified into a sword, a weapon with enough power to destroy the world.

I remember a whirring in my ears. My vision darkened. My daughter gave a cry, and the water took me into an embrace. No longer did I feel the cold, nor my anger. There was nothing.

I was gone.

The wandering spirits of my continent took me in, another lost soul like them. How kind of them. Ha! I was alone, able to watch and not act. How I wanted to act. That sword had to be locked away. It had too much power.

I digress. You wonder about my daughter? Did I watch her meet my fate?

No, she survived, and as a Kadian, she will live forever until an outside force acts upon her life – a quick stab, an illness, a slip from a tree branch.

Those animals of the continent that my people so hated took her in, and they called her Water, after that which had saved her from her own destruction. She became beautiful and wise, and they told her about me, and how the humans came. They fled some evil in their own land – that matters not – and they decided to make my continent their home.

The humans mated my precious daughter to their chief. I loathed them for it, but Water was happy. She bore three daughters:

Strong Ucenoia, who had the bullheadedness of humanity.

Beautiful Sia with her Kadian selfishness.

Kind Amalita, who exuded grace and righteousness.

All three of my daughters’ children had my powers, and the humans made them their leaders. Three women became three queens, with kingdoms that chose to war with each other. That is when everyone forgot about me.

Our land is divided into three countries now, each named after one of my daughters. The kingdom of Sia wants to ruin Amalita. Amalita in turn wants to see Sia obliterated. Ucenia is the neutral country, at war with none, but not at peace either. I digress now.

I admit I dwelled too much upon the sword. I wanted it – I needed it. Such evil cannot be free!

Time pitied me.

Time took me to its realm where all is all, and nothing is nothing. The sword is made of Kadian hatred, yes, but there is more hatred in the world. There is Darkness, and Darkness is just as powerful and just as evil.

The Daughter of Darkness will be born someday, and she will destroy the world.

The Daughter of Light will be her counterpart, and bring forth life where there is none, happiness where there is only sadness.

Time gave me the ability to tell my child, and she told hers, and they did not ready their armies as Time wanted.

Sia, my selfish granddaughter, wants that Darkness for herself. The kingdom of Sia would take the Daughter of Darkness for their own gain.

Sia will not get it. The Daughter of Darkness will be destroyed as she breathes her first breath.

I will see to that.

First Chapter

Sabiya speaks . . .

I had planned to escape in order to look in a mirror and smile at the girl I saw. Everything I owned would be mine and not my father’s. It’s the kind of happiness I’ve waited for my entire life.

I’ll never get it now.

The outlaw had grabbed my arm. He threw me over the saddle and put his filthy hand over my mouth. I can still taste it, all that sweat and dirt, the sand.

He had hit me across the cheek and told me to shut up. I was too scared to try to get off the horse.

He brought me here. The outlaws called me names – mangy mongrel, city whore – and spit on me.

I was supposed to escape from my captivity, not find a different one.

***

The outlaw shoved Sabiya into the sand. A rock scraped her arm, the pain a fast prick, and as she gasped, he grabbed the back of her vest and twisted her around. The head wrap slipped down her back. Her heart pounded, breath rasping. She could do nothing against a grown man thrice her size.

He was going to rape her or kill her, or both. This would be the end.

Please. She licked her dry lips. Let me go home. My father will reward you. She stumbled over the words.

Waiting for his reply, her heart pounded against her ribcage, breath rasping. She prayed the idea of a lucrative ransom would have the outlaws reevaluating their prisoner.

It should have only been a three-day hike through the desert, sleeping during the sun hours and walking at night, before reaching the forest where salvation stretched into her future. She would find a home, and the occupants would take her in as a maid. She would be free from her father. No one would call her worthless ever again.

Her plan had hit a perilous snag. She wasn’t supposed to be captured within an hour of leaving Juniper City.

Maybe her father was right. She was worthless. Nothing she did turned out right.

Campfires burned between the tents of the outlaw encampment. She crawled backward until she bumped into the nearest structure. Her feet tangled in her skirt. She couldn’t fight, but could she run? The men would have to be distracted. She’d never run in her life, unless darting through the halls with her little sisters counted.

Her leg muscles already ached from riding horseback. A sharp pain crept up her back. These men would be more used to rigorous exercise. She would end up on her face.

Worthless.

The outlaws pawed through the spoils in their saddlebags, including her bag of belongings. One of them lifted her spare breast coverlet and rubbed it against his loincloth.

Lewd, filthy men. Her cheeks burned. Give that back!

She shouldn’t have spoken. Men talked; women listened. They’d cut out her tongue for her outburst. Sabiya pressed her lips shut and lowered her gaze to the sand. I am demure. Move past me. Ignore me.

Pretty thing got somethin’ to say? He crouched in front of her and laughed as he trailed his finger over her cheek. She jerked her head away, and he let his digit slide down her neck and between her breasts. The first man to call her pretty had to be a disgusting boar.

She clamped her teeth to avoid vomiting, screaming, or scratching the eyes from his big, bald head. He straightened, tossing the scrap of silk at her. It brushed her cheek and shoulder, a contrast to his foul his touch. No one should touch her in such an intimate way except her husband. Would a husband even want her disgraced self now? Not that a man had ever wanted her before . . . 

Sabiya almost laughed. She would never escape from the outlaws. No longer did she have to worry about finding a husband. Her father would be overjoyed not to lose sleep over a dowry.

Sabiya couldn’t surrender to hopelessness. She had to keep plotting escape. If she surrendered to the outlaws, nothing would ever be accomplished.

Horses neighed from the distance, and the ground vibrated as more outlaws solidified from the night. She would never be able to escape with all of them surrounding her. Panic rose to burn her throat.

No, she had to maintain hope. There might be one villain she could befriend. He might help her get away.

An outlaw pushed a young man off the front of his horse. He stumbled in the sand before righting and gaped at her. She had to look a mess, her headscarf half off and sand in her hair, the breast coverlet on her shoulder. If she could make him think her pretty, he might be more willing to aid her. How did the girls in the city do it?

Sabiya batted her eyelashes, but her eyes stung with unshed tears. What else did they do?

She pursed her lips; the dry skin tugged across her lower lip and blood seeped into her mouth. She fought down a gag.

What if he did find her pretty and tried to have his way with her? His hands would touch her body. Her virgin body.

Survival mattered. She would have to accept that over purity.

He couldn’t be that horrid of an outlaw, his skin was still smooth with youth, no stubble marred his dark flesh. His eyes glowed in the firelight.

Help me, she mouthed.

The outlaw jumped down from behind the boy and shoved him toward her. He turned to glare at the older man, revealing his wrists were bound. Panic burned again. He was as much a prisoner as she was, no help for her there.

Half of her brain reminded her that if the Daughter of Darkness willed her dead, so be it.

The other half screamed at her to keep plotting.

My brother will kill all of you, the boy yelled, and his voice squeaked, balanced on the precipice between childhood and manhood.

The outlaws laughed, and the one holding the boy kicked him down; he slid in the sand near where she knelt. When he lifted his face, the tears on his cheek streaked through the sand that mottled his skin, moisture reflecting the campfire light. He had to feel as helpless as she did. The innocence in his face brought her youngest sister to mind. Her hands tingled to reach out for him, to hug him.

They would succeed together.

We’ll be fine. Sand gritted in her teeth. The Daughter of Darkness will save us.

Her sister would have asked for a story, something to distract from their plight, but the boy kept gaping at her. Sabiya had to fill him with hope so he wouldn’t give up.

The men continued to paw through their spoils, the new arrivals tossing down more, and a few men left the nearest tent with tankards to join in.

I don’t believe in her. The young man spit to the side. The Daughter of Darkness can rot in the underworld.

Sabiya jerked back. You jest. If the Daughter of Darkness heard him, it would be a curse upon his head. Upon both their heads, considering her luck in reaching the forest for a happy new life. The boy stared at her, so she wet her lips, her cheeks hot beneath his stare. Just because of where we are now doesn’t mean she won’t bring us salvation. Sabiya had to believe that, too. The Daughter had given her the chance to escape Juniper City and she could bring a second escape now.

Right?

The Daughter of Darkness wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the city at all if the savior truly believed Sabiya to be worthless.

He rolled onto his back and his chest rose beneath his leather vest. If Sabiya panicked, it would feed into his emotions. She had to keep them both calm.

She drew a deep breath and exhaled. The Daughter of Darkness loves us so long as we give her our love.

I’ve got bigger things to worry about. He wiggled to sit up without using his tied hands. Name’s Harick.

They needed to stay calm and focused; panicking would get them killed faster. She inhaled and exhaled again. Her heartbeat still thudded, and the corners of her vision blurred. No. No panicking.

My brother will come save us. Harick squirmed closer to her and leaned against the tent at her back. What’s your name?

Her father would beat her if he knew she was so close to a strange boy; he would do worse if he knew she spoke to that boy. Harick looked to be around her age – fifteen. Marriageable, no longer innocent with childhood.

Marriageable, but not to her. No man wanted her for his wife.

She and the boy could escape from the outlaw camp, but they needed to work together. They needed calmness and comradery. The structures of city life could rot.

I’m Sabiya. Her teeth chattered from fear.

Shut up. An outlaw tossed his tankard at them and ale drenched her legs, the liquid cold in the night chill. Sabiya shrank deeper into the tent at her back. She would not tremble before them. She would never beg for mercy, even if they plunged a knife into her chest.

If her father’s beatings had taught her nothing else, it was how to keep her mouth shut in the face of pain.

Git up, bitch. An outlaw grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.

She glanced back at Harick before the outlaw slapped her. She bit her tongue, tasting blood.

The Daughter of Darkness would save them. She had to.

***

Uthias stood in his stirrups while he stroked his horse’s neck. The velvet over tight muscles helped to calm his nerves. Soon enough you’re going to see me bawling Harick out.

Sand Dancer turned his head to knicker, hot breath brushing past Uthias’ cheeks. Maybe the animal wanted a turn berating Harick, too.

A desert wolf howled, echoed by another farther off, their cries mingling with the wailings of the dead. A shiver crept across his skin. Someday Uthias’ soul might be led to the sand dunes to mourn with the rest of them. He would never be at peace with his family if that happened; he would never know peace at all.

Whatever the future brought him, so be it.

He could do his best to fight for a good one, though.

The outlaw camp lay a mile ahead, marked by firelight. He swung off the saddle and a cloud of sand billowed around his knee-high leather boots. Drunken laughter and faint music drifted across the desert. Uthias dismounted and took off at a run, leaving Sand Dancer behind a dune.

He would be fast and strong like a steed.

Uthias paused as a cry sounded, mournful and throaty: a girl’s sobs carried on the wind. No time to worry about souls that couldn’t be saved. He had to focus on the main mission.

His father’s words teased his memory: Only do what you can do and give no more than a passing thought to that which you cannot change.

The full moon illuminated the outlaw camp. The night could have been worse; it could have been dark as evil and windy with a storm.

Five men surrounded the nearest campfire, each holding an iron mug. Uthias paused behind the first tent where the light silhouetted a man vomiting inside; splashes of food hitting sand followed the guttural gag. Uthias forced his stomach not to retch as well. Nausea wouldn’t help his sneak attack.

He continued between another row of tents to a different campfire where a young woman danced around burning logs, light flickering off her pale skin. Sand slid over her toes as she kicked and spun.

Git movin’, gal. Dance faster, one of the outlaws bellowed, and another guffawed.

Her skirt of faded blue silk twirled around her legs in a blur. She seemed no older than an adolescent, her body little more than skin over bones. Something about her reminded him of Harick. The helplessness perhaps.

She tripped over the long skirt and fell to her knees, crying out; the man nearest kicked her with his sandal to knock her onto her back. She clutched her ribs where she’d been struck and rolled toward the fire.

Uthias had no time to save her from the camp even though his muscles ached to grab her away. He steeled his mind to banish the image of her bleeding knees and eyes that had glazed over with pain. She would have to survive on her own until he could return another night . . . if there would be another night. The elders of his village wouldn’t want him to waste the energy on someone already lost.

Prisoners of outlaws didn’t last long. His people would find their corpses out in the dunes, twisted and mangled, sometimes more blood and wounds than body.

The Sian king had an army he could send to eradicate the villains, but he chose to ignore the desert, and Uthias’ people were few. Familiar anger brought hot saliva to his mouth. He closed his eyes to calm himself; it wasn’t time to lose control. The king would never change his ways.

Uthias ran to the next row of tents covered with blood-encrusted animal hides and imported gingham faded from the desert sun. He dropped to his chest and crawled to the first large tent to lift the sidewall, peering underneath where colorful silk obscured his sight.

Not this one. Prisoners wouldn’t be kept in a tent lined with such wealth. A man wouldn’t want guts staining something so fancy.

From the next tent came slurred laughter and the clanking of iron mugs; a boy’s scream carried over the noise. Uthias paused to peek under the material. That one. His father did care about this particular prisoner. Uthias shoved inside with his fists clenched, his brown, leather gloves stretching across his knuckles.

He didn’t have to contain himself now. A chuckle crept up his throat.

The hot air reeked of liquor and sweat. Bulky, perspiring bodies blocked his way. Uthias elbowed them aside and marched to a wooden pole stained with blood, erected in the center of the tent with a boy lashed to it. Cuts streaked his legs and back, and a knife wound glistened on his cheek. In better light, they were bound to look more grotesque. Anger seared hotter through Uthias’ bones.

Behind the boy lay the crumpled mass of another man. Lifeless. Uthias peeled back his lips in a snarl. If he ever met the king, he’d toss him to the outlaws and see how he endured being their